


A Nurse's Calling

by LittleShopOfNina



Category: Dead By Daylight
Genre: Dead by Daylight - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-16 00:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleShopOfNina/pseuds/LittleShopOfNina
Summary: jake is sleepy boiLIKE ME WHATS UP IM BACK WITH THE SHITTY ONE SHOTS





	A Nurse's Calling

There were times Jake could be elusive, and there were times he could be so calm that everyone often wondered if he were secretly a robot. Jake was always quiet and composed, barely saying more than five words at a time, and if his companions were honest, they couldn’t describe what his voice sounded like. It was rare if he ever did anything but blink and occasionally sniffle.There had been a few instances in the past few days that made it seem like Jake was always genuinely _annoyed_ at the idea of other humans existing around him. When Meg had sat beside him to tie her tennis shoe, he looked her way and rolled his eyes while mumbling something under his breath. When Dwight tried to explain what wires to cross to successfully turn on the generator, he smirked condescendingly like he were some technician who didn’t need anything explained. And when David had punched him in the arm for not picking up his ankles when jumping through a window, he hit him back. In short, the shaggy headed man wasn’t someone who exactly “fit in” with others. It was like he made it his personal goal to _not_ fit in. The saboteur always had this quiet air of mystery around him, like he were some “bad-boy” in the back of the cafeteria in a teenage girl’s wet dream. 

Tonight, though, Jake didn’t seem like that at all. If the others around him were asked their opinions, they would describe the normally quiet man as downright annoying. David didn’t offer much aside from the two or three times he would stop working on the machine to listen for a chainsaw’s rev. Dwight and Jake assisted the burly brickhouse known as David, and Dwight couldn’t help but ignore his own work to check on the man to his left.

Jake had been getting progressively paler and paler as they tinkered around. He was uncharacteristically clumsy and butterfingered, all his reservation gone. Groggy and hoarse as though he’d just woken up, Jake was rambling ridiculous things that made the other half-laugh, and they were half paying attention because they were focusing on the machine in front of them. With the cylinders pumping and the gears rambling, they couldn’t afford a slip-up. Jake was rambling about the birds, and asking about David’s tattoos. His fingers were fumbling around like a drunk’s, and his body waveredwith half-lidded eyes that went unnoticed. The man shook like a leaf in a storm, and the only one who responded was Dwight. It was unfair of the other to not notice he was trying his best to stay fully operational by intentionally pinching his fingers in the moving of the gears, which caused narrow eyes to jolt open. Immediately, Dwight swooped around to grab Jake’s wrists and yank them away from the machine. This caused David to look up in interest. Jake’s tan forehead was beaded with sweat, but his eyes didn’t stay open long enough. His blinks got longer until it seemed like he was sleeping.

“Are you okay?” Dwight squeezed the other’s wrists tenderly. It seemed his touch soothed a raging fire because he could have sworn he felt Jake leaning into his hands. Dwight could have sworn he was touching an icicle. A slight mewl left Jake’s lips, like when a mother touched a sick child’s forehead. The four eyes wasn’t the only one who stopped working on the machine, because David had, too.

The middle man shook his head and every layer of fluffy black hair moved like a million used cottonballs. Some ends were twisted and pulled out of their normal place, almost curly even. They were covered in dirt and grime just like his khaki pants and gingerbread face. “Did I miss the train?” 

“What?” Dwight was just as confused as he was anxious. “Jake, are you ok-, are you okay?”

David looked up for a brief moment, his coal colored eyes single handedly piercing through Dwight and Jake. In a wordless snort, Dwight was back to work and David sneered at the tawny and tired man. The way he spoke, a thick accent from Manchester diluting all friendliness, made it sound like he spoke through gritted teeth. “Can it, ‘ya cook.” Coal eyes watched the wavering male like a defensive dog.

Dwight knew this was the PG way of telling Jake to “shut the fuck up because he was annoying David”. David was always so gruff and vulgar when it came to a minor annoyance, so he found it best to just “can it”, like David had said. Even though the gruff man wasn’t talking to him, Dwight felt like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It caused his face to flush deep red in embarrassment. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

This silence went on for a few seconds before Dwight found his gaze wandering back to Jake. Something was...off...about him. Why would he ask about a train? Why jam his fingers in the gears?

“Jesus Christ, Jake!!” 

Dwight couldn’t help how loud his voice was, or how hard it cracked from straining.Both of the conscious men jumped a few feet in the air from shock. Dwight could hear David reacting with a slur of vulgar comments, but it fell on Dwight’s deaf ears as he looked at Jake.

Face-down against the machine and chin hairs an inch from the roaring gears, Dwight yanked the taller male away from the generator. His bony frame had been slumped over the metal in a way that made it look like he’d been thrown away like a rag doll. Still colder than anything Dwight had ever experienced, Jake wasn’t responding to being shaken or even slapped. The sight made Dwight’s stomach churn in knots. The man’s face was colored more like a bruised banana than the gingerbread softness he knew. Jake was not only paler than normal, but his brow was furrowed into a single black caterpillar, mouth a straight line, and his neck a limp noodle. The only thing that stopped Jake’s neck from breaking was the thick scarf he wore. It acted like a built-in pillow, and as the two left the generator, Dwight nearly bit his tongue in half. 

David had begrudgingly hefted Jake under a tree partially because he was concerned, but more-so that Dwight couldn’t do it himself. The boy looked like he lived on a diet of soda and anti-depressants, and couldn’t even lift a wooden pallet. 

The gruff brute left without a word and that left Dwight with an unconscious Jake.

Dwight didn’t know much about first aid, but since the other was technically breathing, even though it was shallow, he didn’t think he should try CPR. Not only did he not know what those letters stood for, he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do. Jake was still unresponsive as he laid in the dirt, and Dwight didn’t think it could possibly be comfortable. After all, he was _sitting_ in it and felt like he was sitting on a million thumbtacks.

In a movement swift and quiet, he fashioned himself to have his lap serve as Jake’s pillow. The pizza boy had rolled Jake on his back, and patted his chest once for good measure.Though the other wasn’t dead, something about confirming his heartbeat made Dwight shudder. Jake’s head was heavy and weighed a thousand pounds, but Dwight didn’t care. It was the least he could do for his companion, even if he had better things to be doing. 

~

Even though David hadn’t been by in eons, and Dwight hadn’t seen the maniacal chainsaw man even longer, the delivery boy stayed on high alert as he waited. Every leaf was counted. Each bird was watched. Any sound from Jake was noted. He’d shoved his calloused hands into his armpits for warmth. This was to warm them up as well as keep them from Jake’s unconscious sheep mane. It was black like someone had poured a jar of ink in it, and looked like steel wool, though something kept Dwight smiling. It could have been the way he was flinching his body against the mud. It could have been the occasional cough he let out. It could have just been that these all meant he was coming around.

“Hmph,” the man below him coughed a fifth time, which made Dwight jolt almost completely to his feet. 

“Are you awake?” Dwight yanked his hands from his armpits with enough force to break his wrists. The man asked this every single time the other made a noise or motion, but this was the first time Jake actually responded.

Jake acted like his body were made of lead, and though he meant to lightly touch his head, his hand flew in like a racecar and nearly smacked him. “...m’head….hurts.” 

Dwight had placed his own hand on the other’s forehead to cushion the blow, and was thankful Jake didn’t hit himself. The delivery boy was no nurse, but he could discern that Jake was still sleepy and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. “Mmm, nope nope,” he whimpered, drumming his fingers on the other’s forehead. “Stay awake. Did you hit your head?”

“Does your left eye hurt?” Jake had his right palm over his right eye, smiling up at Dwight as best he could with all the pressure in his head. It looked weak and frail, Dwight almost had to squint to see the smirk hidden behind that single burgundy eye. 

“What?” The other was still drumming his fingers on the other, now moving to a heavier pace best described as thunking. Dwight was thunking Jake’s head with his fingers to keep him awake. Wasn’t it the right thing to do to keep someone awake? Something about a concussion? Ah hell. Dwight was certain a “concussion” was a type of clothing brand. He didn’t know a damned thing about nursing someone.

“...cuz you’ve been lookin’ right all day.”


End file.
